Requiem
by HowlX23
Summary: **She's been tested, prodded, abused, used-and what for? Maylin is a unique young woman, with crimson eyes and a song so pure and lovely...it sears your soul. Is she a flower maiden? Join Kiba and the gang as they embark on another journey...to Paradise once more. Please r/r**


_**(A/N Gabu means Gobble in Japanese.)**_

"_Shailoh Shailoh, yatreet ka...  
Shailoh shna.. otvit ka...  
Hahla Hahla.. ahlah hah...  
Shailoh washnee  
fortee ney...  
Shailoh Shailoh, yatreet ka...  
Omen nio hah...  
Shailoh Shailoh, yatreet ka...  
Shailoh shna.. otvit ka...  
Hahla Hahla.. ahlah hah...  
Shailoh washnee  
fortee ney..."_

_-Cheza's Song (Gaelic Translation)_

* * *

**Clock. Aim. Fire.**

Quiet and discreet, she watched through the cracked opening of her closet door. She sat with her small legs tugged beneath her and quivering hands wrapped around her torso like a hug. She wanted to call out to them, tell them to stop, but she couldn't. The fear that crawled up her spine felt like a deadly spider that had somehow made her incapable of speaking.

They've been arguing for the past hour, and it was the same result every time. Her father would wake up from his stupor, overturn a couple of chairs, and maybe break a plate or two, before he took his anger off on his wife's face. She still harbored some bruises she had received from the night before, and the night before that… and so on.

But all little May could do was try and stay quiet. If her father found out she was awake, past her bedtime, like the little snoop he said she was, then there was no escaping his wrath. What was a little thing like her to do then? If she called the police, they'd be too late. She tried once, when her mother was knocked unconscious and bleeding on the floor, but he pried the phone away from her tiny hands and smacked her. Hard. She was only four at the time.

May's shoulders flinched at the sudden _slap! _that smacked her mother's head violently to ones side. Her body went flying backwards until she hit the white-tiled floor with a loud _thud! _As she fell, May couldn't see her mother through the crack for a moment. Her breath hitched but she slammed a hand over her mouth to muffle any noises from coming out.

Her father, his ruddy face sheathed with sweat and whiskey, snarled and bent over to grab her mother by the ankle. But before he could catch her, she was able to crawl away, kicking him in the shin in the process. He yelped and staggered toward her as she fled away from him, circling the bed toward the table but its side. Nearly breathless and in pain, she was able to reach the table and opened its draw. She pulled out a small handgun just as he caught up to her and grabbed her wrists. May's parents struggled, her father's strength and power against her mother's fear and anger. Grunting, cursing, slapping, clawing, biting, punching, they fought. Within the seconds that felt endless, her father was able to get the better end of the fight. He pulled and twisted the arm with the handgun in a lock as he took a fistful of her hair. Her mother screamed in agony but she tried to entangle herself from his grasp. May watched as her mother kicked him in the groin, making him to grunt. With a slight chance, she tore away from his grasp ad readied herself with the gun. At that moment, he quickly recovered from the blow and went to knock the weapon from her hand.

Clock. Aim—

_Bam!_

The sound of the gunshot resounded deep within May's eardrums with a shattering hum. She felt something wet and warm splatter across her face. She blinked a couple of times. It looked like red graffiti painted on her pearl-white skin.

There was a thud of a body slamming down to the floor and then…there was nothing. No movement. No sound, save for the constant ringing in her ears and reverberating through her skull. She didn't realize she had blacked out for a small millisecond, but when she recovered, May felt her heart skip a healthy beat.

Her mother laid sprawled on the bed, her crimson blood staining the pale sheets. As May looked at her, she noticed her mother was looking back at her, too. A gaping hole for a bloody eye. The bullet had shot through her left eye socket.

Her father hefted himself off from the hard-wood floor, wiping away some speckles of his wife's blood on his cheeks. His face was devoid from any emotion. He arched his body and grabbed the gun that was still clenched within her stiff, dead, fingers. Without a moment's hesitation, he pointed the gun's receiving end inside his mouth, pulling the trigger.

For some odd reason, one she would never understand, May never flinched when the gun fired a second time.

Silence penetrated the air as the minutes passed. She stared at her parents lifeless bodies as she cautiously emerged from the safety of her closet and over to the bed. One glance and the eight year old turned away, toward her room. She grabbed the only valuable possession she had: her stuffed puppy with one ear chewed off my mice. She also took an unwashed blanket from her poor excuse of a bed and wrapped it around her tiny shoulders. Unknowingly, as if in a daze, the little girl walked out of the beaten-down house and into a wonderland of falling snow…

May didn't know how long she had been walking, which direction she was headed towards, what road she walked upon or what building she passed, all she seemed to care about was the fact that she was alone. Not free, just alone. And cold. The flimsy, dingy, blanket was the only sort of protection she had from the falling snow. Shivering, she clutched her puppy closer to her chest. Her frostbitten fingers and toes were numb as was the rest of her body. From the rushing blood to her face, her cheeks were bright red like a blushing rose. And her lips, almost a corpse-like purple.

As she walked through the city, there was not a single person in close proximity. Not a single soul to help a keep freezing child warm. They were all probably smart enough to stay indoors, not bothering to look outside their windows to catch sight of her.

Each glowing street lamp formed a halo of light within the dark city, it reminded May of the story her mother used to tell her; the one about four kids stumbling upon an unknown and enchanted world that was once covered with ice in a never-ending winter. The little girl, Lucy, she remembered, was the first to discover the new world, and the first thing she saw was a luminescent lamppost. May liked this story out of all the tales her mother once told her about. She loved the adventures the children had, the battles they fought against a queen. And the animals! Oh she loved the animals. Lions, fawns, unicorns, wolves…

A lingering pain in her leg began to weigh her down. Her head pounded as if she could feel her father's fist pounding her over, and over and over…

Maybe it'd be best to lie down awhile.

May gazed up at the lamppost, as if it were the sun, warming her already. She smiled tiredly. Strangely, she didn't feel cold anymore. Perhaps this was all a dream?

_I'm tired_, she thought innocently.

May trudged closer to the lamppost and leaned her back against the black pole.

_Just five minutes, Gabu, okay? _she thought, referring to the stuffed puppy in her arms. She moved his lumpy head, like a nod. _Okay._

"I'll sing you a lullaby. You like that, Gabu?" she said aloud.

Of course the toy didn't answer her, but she smiled as if he replied with a _yes._

May hummed and then, she began her song:

"_Great Wolf, Great Wolf, you're safe...  
Great Wolf.. I will protect you...  
Hahla Hahla.. ahlah hah...  
Great Wolf,  
rest your soul...  
Great Wolf, Great Wolf, you're safe.  
Give in to sleep...  
Great Wolf, Great Wolf, you're safe...  
Great Wolf.. I will protect you...  
Hahla Hahla.. ahlah hah...'"_

Once she finished, her eyes felt heavy and they fluttered like butterfly wings.

"Goodnight, Gabu."

Yes. A nap would do the trick.

* * *

In Freeze City, a young scientist walked brusquely through the snow, her shoes sodden with melted snow. Cher Degré was arriving home after a long nights shift from the lab. Her latest project was a flower that had apparently come from the moon. They were called lunar flowers. So rare, yet beautiful that Cher was almost captivated by it. But after so many hours looking through a microscope, all Cher wanted to do was head home, kick back her feet and eat some of her left over lasagna.

Her cell phone vibrated in her coat pocket. She looked at the caller ID and smirked. It was Hubb Lebowski, a handsome detective that usually came by the lab to check updates on the latest projects…or Cher herself. She hit the answer button and heard an immediate, _"Hey, beautiful."_

"Hey, yourself."

Hubb chuckled from the other line. She hated to admit it, but she blushed whenever she heard his deep throaty laugh. _"Enough with the formalities, I guess. Anyways, I just wanted to check up on you. See how you're doing?"_

"I'm alright. Thanks, Hubb. Just tired is all."

_"Ah, long shift?"_

"Tell me about it," she sighed, releasing a puff of cool air. "What's up with you? You seem to be checking up on me more than usual. What, are you _that_ interested in a flower?"

_"That depends on what kind of flower we're talking about here,"_ he answered huskily.

"Oh, Hubb."

_"You have any plans for tonight?"_

"No, why?" she said, turning a corner.

_"Have dinner with me tonight. I know it's late but, how about it?"_

"But, I'm not—"

_"C'mon, Ms. Degré_._ I won't take no for an answer."_

"Well, if you insist…"

Just as she approached a nearby lamppost, Cher spotted a figure beneath it. Perhaps it was someone homeless?

_"Uh, Cher? You there?"_ called Hubb.

"Um, yeah, yeah…Listen, I think I need to call you back. There's something…" she said, her eyes curiously squinting.

_"Cher—"_

She shut off the phone and absentmindly placed the device into her coat pocket. She clutched the strap to her work bag as she walked toward the figure. It was smaller than an average homeless man, so what was it?

Once she was in close proximity, Cher held up a hand to cover her gasp. It was a child, probably no older than eight or nine. "Are you alright?" she called out to the motionless child and reached out to pull back her hooded face. The poor thing was so pale, her lips were beginning to blacken and chip off.

Quickly, Cher took the child in her arms to shake her awake. "Please, open your eyes!"

Then, as if some miracle, the child coughed.

"Oh, thank—" she was stopped midsentence. It didn't help that the child had blood on her face, but her crimson eyes seemed to be piercing into her soul. And with that in mind, she shivered involuntarily.

* * *

****I hope you like the sort of prologue to this new story. It's taken place a few years before Kiba and the gang enter Freeze City. But never fear! The wait won't be that long **** please tell me what you think, what you liked, or (shudders) hated…yeah.**

**I feel sorry for May, but I have to do it…ugh, I sound horrible…like G.R Martin (or whatever his name is), the author of Game of Thrones. At least I don't kill off my characters…well not exactly lol.**

**Anyways, enough ramble, and see you next time on Requiem.****


End file.
